


Like A Blade

by TerrifiedAristocrat



Category: AFK Arena (Video Game)
Genre: Competitive Knife Throwing, Forbidden Snacks, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:02:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24331021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerrifiedAristocrat/pseuds/TerrifiedAristocrat
Summary: Oscar saw Kelthur as someone like him, honed to be a perfect weapon. Ferael was something exciting added on.
Relationships: Ferael/Kelthur Marwen/Oscar
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	Like A Blade

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry it's been a while.

Oscar had a keen eye for names and faces. He had to, in his business. In many ways the business of assassination and the business of running a household had points in common. Maintaining absolute control over every aspect of the operation was one, and knowing who was who and who did what was another. 

So it was no surprise that Oscar recognized young Kelthur Marwen- not so young anymore, and most definitely dead. He’d run into Kelthur years ago in a previous job, a previous life it seemed, and seeing the young man again with such darkness in his glowing green eyes, pain dripping off of him in black shadows that hid in the tatters of his clothes, made Oscar feel something odd. An outsider would have called it pity. Oscar did not pity Kelthur- he heard the story about his death from Estrilda, whose fists shook slightly as she discussed it- but instead was interested. 

Oscar was a blade, and he recognized another blade.

Most Lightbringers had an internal fear of Graveborn- which was fair, they were undead after all- but Oscar processed his fear in the kind of cold and calculating way that came from years as a killer. He understood death as intimately as any Graveborn did and as a result, didn’t mind being around them. Of course, it varied from person to person- Thoran and Vedan were two individuals that reminded Oscar a bit too much of his previous employers and he gave them a wide breadth. But Ferael was fun to annoy, and with annoying Ferael came interacting with Kelthur.

Ferael didn’t share Oscar’s enthusiasm.

“Oh Dura’s tit it’s the pretty knife boy,” Ferael grumbled as he noticed Oscar drop in on the archery range Ferael favored. “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“Hardly,” Oscar replied cheerfully, pulling out one of his knives and twirling it in his hand idly. “The sun is just setting and the night is young, after all,” 

“Feh,” Ferael snorted, pulling back his bow and letting a shadow-imbued arrow fly through the golden air, hitting the center of the target with a shuddering thunk. He glanced at Oscar, who grinned and flicked his hand, letting loose five knives that nestled around the arrow in a tight circle.

“Show off,” Ferael muttered.

“You are too,” Kelthur commented from the tree behind them, jumping down to join them soundlessly. Oscar managed not to jump, but just barely. 

“Yeah well, I’m allowed,” Ferael huffed as Oscar quickly went to retrieve his knives. He was pretty sure Ferael wasn’t going to shoot him but then again, nothing was certain. “Hurry up pretty boy, I wanna shoot things,”

“My knives don’t magically disappear like yours,” Oscar called back, gathering the last of his knives and briskly walking back to where the graveborn men stood.

“Well that’s on you,” Ferael sneered, pulling back as soon as Oscar returned. Oscar chuckled and tossed a knife into the air idly, catching it without really thinking about it. After a few tosses, he noticed Kelthur watching him, and smiled softly at him. Kelthur glanced aside and Oscar decided Kelthur was cute. Death made his eyes tighter with more of a glower than before and what once was soft blonde hair now paled to a delicate silver, like moonlight. It was as if Kelthur hadn’t just died- he metamorphosed into something strange and different and utterly beautiful.

Now was Oscar’s turn to avert his eyes and focus on his knives flashing gold in the dimming light. He could still throw in low light, of course, but soon would have to leave. Time to do something was running short. Oscar’s stomach twisted- he wanted to do something, to elongate the time he spent around Kelthur, but wasn’t a fan of throwing something out of desperation. He took in a breath to ask something- honestly Oscar wasn’t sure what- when Kelthur spoke up.

“Would you like to get drinks with us?” he asked in that oddly endearing, stilted way of his.

“Are you sure?” Oscar glanced at Ferael. Kelthur followed his gaze and shrugged.

“If Ferael wants to join, he can. If he wants to leave, he will,” he said.

“Hey I’m right here!” Ferael snapped.

“You’re too busy shooting,” Oscar pointed out. “Someone has to make plans for drinks while you impress us with your archery skills,”

Ferael was quiet for a moment, and then-

“You’re impressed by me?” he asked quietly.

“Most certainly! Or I wouldn’t come watch you shoot, now would I?” Oscar answered.

“I thought you just wanted to antagonize me,” Ferael grumbled.

“Well, I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t also an allure,” Oscar conceded. Kelthur snorted quietly and Ferael chuckled.

“Alright, let’s go see how much liquor pretty boy can hold,” Ferael announced, slinging an arm around Oscar’s shoulders. The contact was sudden, but Oscar decided by the time they made it to the nearest tavern that he didn’t mind.

As it turned out, Oscar could handle himself just perfectly fine. This was mainly because the bartender gave Oscar proper ale, while serving the other two what amounted to moonshine with various... things added into it.

“It clears the sinuses,” Ferael explained around a knob of ginger he chewed on. Oscar didn’t mind the root in tea, but the amounts Ferael was eating it made Oscar’s stomach turn. It did explain the faint scent of ginger Ferael carried about himself, not bad for a dead man. 

Kelthur on the other hand...

“Isabella introduced this to me,” Kelthur explained as he delicately nibbled on a cone of incense. “I like opium the best,” 

“It’s a good scent,” Oscar agreed, not letting his startled nature show on his face. It was of the utmost importance not to show fear in any situation, let alone the situation of seeing an attractive young man munch on cones of incense as if they were candies. 

“You should try putting the ashes in your drink,” Ferael suggested.

“That means lighting them on fire,” Kelthur pointed out, the slightest edge of a whine in his voice. Oscar found it oddly endearing.

“Coward,” Ferael sneered. Kelthur rolled his eyes.

“No, I have better taste. Burning them makes them taste bitter,” he retorted.

“I’ll bet pretty boy would like to see you do it,” Ferael egged Kelthur on.

“I have no opinion on the matter,” Oscar was quick to point out. Ferael waved him off and downed another glass of liquid that could remove the polish from furniture. Kelthur glanced at Oscar curiously. “It’s true, I don’t,”

“Very well,” Kelthur replied, pulling a match out of one of his pockets and lighting one of the cones. 

“Why do you have matches on you?” Oscar asked.

“Snack,” Kelthur replied, popping the used match in his mouth and crunching quietly.

“Does that... taste good?” Oscar wanted to know.

“Like fried potato,” Kelthur explained vaguely. “And... eggs,” 

“So you like it then?” Oscar asked.

“I do,” Kelthur replied slowly, having to think about it for a moment. 

“Good,” Oscar nodded, pleased. If Kelthur was going to eat fucking weird things around him, he’d better be enjoying himself. “I simply cannot have you eating things just to get a reaction from someone,” 

“I do not,” Kelthur assured Oscar. “I have other ways,”

“Oh really?” Oscar asked, raising an eyebrow. Kelthur’s face remained blank for a moment, before a soft smirk etched itself on his face. With the speed of an assassin, Kelthur leaned in and captured Oscar’s lips in a smoky kiss. Even though Oscar was subtly flirting with both men the entire time, shock overtook him at the forward, public action. Kelthur pulled back with more of a smirk and picked up the smoldering cone of incense, licking it slowly. Oscar watched him, unable to tear his eyes away from the slow way Kelthur’s tongue laved the side of something Oscar would never think to put anywhere near his mouth. “You’ll burn yourself,” he blurted.

“Are you worried?” Kelthur asked.

“Yes,” Oscar’s brow furrowed and he grabbed Kelthur by the front of his shirt, pulling him close and kissing him harshly. He felt Kelthur stiffen and then relax in his grip but did not smirk into the kiss like he wanted to, simply focusing on moving his lips against the other’s. 

“Oi!” Ferael snapped, shocking Oscar into separating from Kelthur. He blinked placidly at Ferael while Kelthur licked his lips slowly. “My turn,”

“Wh-” Oscar’s commentary was cut off by Ferael kissing him with much more hunger and aggression than Kelthur had. Not to be undone, Oscar kissed back, nipping at the stitches on Ferael’s lips and definitely enjoying the soft gasps that earned him. After a little bit of that, Oscar pulled back. He decided to let himself wear a self-satisfied smirk and took a sip of ale to wash down the spicy taste of ginger from Ferael’s lips. 

“Wh-what the hell was that?” Ferael stammered. 

“Did you think I was a meek little lightbringer you could toy with?” Oscar asked lightly, unoffended. Kelthur chuckled.

“I knew better,” he pointed out. “You’re a blade. Like me.” 

“Exactly,” Oscar nodded. Ferael pouted like a brat, which was cute in its own right. He could have himself quite an interesting time with these two.


End file.
